


Nightmares

by andromedacrawley



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: (emphasis on comfort), Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Marriage, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29827203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromedacrawley/pseuds/andromedacrawley
Summary: “Since sleeping in the same bed as Mary, he hadn't been plagued by those dreams that had been intent on haunting him since Sybil's death. He allowed himself to think (though it was admittedly a sappy, idealistic thought) that perhaps her presence drove away all the unpleasantness. Obviously not.”Tom has a nightmare and is comforted by Mary.
Relationships: Tom Branson/Mary Crawley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	Nightmares

One moment, he was kneeling by the edge of the bed, pleading with her not to leave him, and the next he was bathed in the darkness, heart pounding and covered with sweat. He might have still been terrified out of wits had there not been a hand on the side of his face, a thumb stroking his cheek, and a low voice whispering, "Shh, it's alright. You're alright now, my darling."

It took Tom a moment to remember where he was and who he was with. Funny— since sleeping in the same bed as Mary, he hadn't been plagued by those dreams that had been intent on haunting him since Sybil's death. He allowed himself to think (though it was admittedly a sappy, idealistic thought) that perhaps her presence drove away all the unpleasantness. Obviously not.

Letting out a shuddery breath, he allowed his muscles to relax again. His hand came up to rest against the one on his cheek. His eyes fell shut, but that awful scene seemed to be burned behind his eyelids, so he mumbled, "Turn the lamp on." Had his thoughts not been so incoherent or scattered, he may have added a please, but she didn't mind.

Her hand slid away from his face. He lamented the loss, but seconds later, when the bright light made his eyes screw shut, Mary asked, "There. Is that better?"

Tom opened his eyes again, training them somewhere a little dimmer. He saw his clothes scattered about the floor, the chair sitting in the corner, before he sat up and turned to her. Her dark eyebrows were drawn with concern, mouth pressed in such a way he could tell she was fretting over him. Still, she looked beautiful. "Much." Tom soaked her in— the faint freckles dusting her cheeks, her serious dark eyes, the hand resting on the duvet. The thin strap from her nightgown at slip down, baring her shoulder, which he leaned down to kiss.

The worry faded away as a soft smile spread across her face. She was much less inhibited when it was just them two late at night. Mary reached up again, the gold of her wedding band catching the light before it settled on his cheek again. "Was it a nightmare?"

Tom nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Her thumb stroked near his mouth, a calming, soothing gesture. "Matthew used to have them... so I'm quite used to it."

Of course... Tom didn't balk at the mention of her first husband. Why would he, when Matthew had been his friend, too? It was the same way for Mary; she didn't resent his mentioning Sybil, either, for she had loved her, too. It was, Tom suspected, one of the reasons why their second marriage was as happy as their first ones.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mary implored.

Tom shook his head, taking her hand into his so he could press a kiss to her palm. "No. But thank you for offering." She had enough horrid memories of that night, having witnessed it just as he had. He didn't want to stir them up.

"Are you sure?" She was quite serious. "You needn't worry about putting on a front. Not with me."

Tom resisted laughing. It was usually him saying that to her; Mary erected a mask that she wore in front of nearly everyone else, and he always reminded her to drop it when they were alone. She was a pillar of strength, his Mary (and how he loved knowing she was his), but even she had moments where her resolve would crumble. Tom was more than willing to be the one to help her pick up the pieces.

"I am," Tom assured her. He sank back down onto his downy pillows again before saying, "But could we leave the lights on for a few more minutes?"

"Of course." Mary settled down on her side so they were eye to eye. He inched closer to her as she admitted, "I have them too, you know."

Tom didn't doubt it. After what had happened to Matthew, after what happened to Sybil, coupled with her own sad past (he refused to linger on the thought of Kemal Pamuk) it was hardly a shock that she had enough to fuel nightmares of her own... but it still made him dismayed to hear it.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. He had never once noticed it in all the time they shared a bed.

"It's not your fault, darling."

"I know." It was hard, loving someone and knowing you couldn't protect them from everything. It was hard lesson he had been forced to learn. There were plenty of things he could do; he could promise not to drive too fast, he could promise he wouldn't leave her, he could try to remain cool under pressure when she was panicking... but he couldn't take her nightmares away, no matter how much as he wished he could. He suspected she oftentimes had that same helpless feeling when it came to him and his own anxieties.

Her eyelids were growing heavy as she scooted towards him. The satin of her nightgown brushed against his bare chest. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her flush against him.

"Go back to sleep, love," he mumbled against her forehead as he pressed a kiss there.

He felt her smile as she rested her head on his chest, one long, pale arm reaching across him. He stared down adoringly at the woman who was now his wife, still astonished that they now slept beside one another every night. One would think he would be used to it by now but it still felt like something out of a dream.

Soon Mary dozed off. He etched her serene features to memory before leaning across the bed and turning off the lamp. His movement must have jostled her awake again, for she murmured, "Love you."

Tom couldn't resist smiling. Even though he had seemingly heard those words a million times before, he never tired of hearing them. "I love you, too."

There were no more nightmares that night.


End file.
